Christ Child

Frank crawled downn the ally on fours a dingy yellow ligh bulb guides his way. Dirty rubber tubbing wound around his bicep needle hanging in cracked dried blood. Tears, sweat and dopamines make him reach for the Chist child's lovin hand only to find no child. No light of redemption. Frank sits in the alley dope blind demons working his head while world rigor mortises sets in.